


Tennyson Almost Got It Right

by Rehfan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, French Kissing, Frottage, M/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 22:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2558225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehfan/pseuds/Rehfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote a poem that included the line: ‘In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love’ Well... he almost got it right.</p><p>Stiles is supposed to rake leaves for his old man as punishment and Scott comes over to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tennyson Almost Got It Right

His dad didn’t so much order him to do it as issue an edict:

“And I don’t want to see another leaf in that yard when you’re done, Stiles. I don’t care that you’re seventeen and almost grown. I don’t care that your best buddies with werewolves. I don’t even care that you’re trying to get rid of bad things in this town. You missed curfew. You didn’t even call. You’re supposed to call – at least check in, text, something. So here’s the rake, there’s some trash bags, and there’s the back yard. Spotless, Stiles. Spotless.”

Stiles held the rake in one hand and the bags in another and gave his father a weak wave and half-hearted smile. “Oh god damn, I hate my freakin’ curfew,” he said under his breath and through clenched teeth as the car pulled out of the drive. He sighed deeply and headed to the back yard.

Autumn was in full swing and the yard was covered in leaves from the two oak trees that grew on the property. The yard was fenced in on three sides and Stiles chose a corner and began to rake toward the center of the lawn. Thirty minutes later, he could count two blisters on his hands and only a quarter of the yard raked into a small pile. Another half hour went by and he felt like he needed a shower, a clean shirt, some ice packs for both his hands, and the world’s longest Three Stooges marathon for his mood.

“Hey!” said Scott. His grin was a welcome one but it faded the moment he got a good look at Stiles. “You look like shit, dude,” said Scott, squinting in the sun.

“Oh… thanks. Appreciate that,” said Stiles, nodding in agreement and sweating the way he does during lacrosse practice. “I’m only killing myself here.” He looked at his hands and winced.

“Ok,” said Scott. “But why?”

“Aw, well, my dad really didn’t appreciate that I blew curfew last night,” said Stiles, stamping the ground with his rake. “He’s given me a list of chores to take care of around the house today – not the least of which is raking up every damn leaf in the world.” Stiles never realized that he could know exhaustion like that.

“Sorry man,” said Scott. “Do you think he’d mind if I helped you? I mean, it’s kind of my fault you were late.”

“Nah, you go home. Leave me here to die,” said Stiles. “Besides you didn’t forget to call home. I did.”

“Stiles,” reasoned Scott, “you were tied to a chair.”

“I know,” said Stiles, “but I didn’t call after that either- Look, just go, okay? I’ll be fine. He was just a little worried. He’ll calm down in time.”

Scott made a sour face and put his hands on his hips. “You’re not doing this alone, Stiles.” Stiles went to speak and Scott stepped closer to him and growled.

“Fine!” he said, handing the rake over to Scott. “The plan is to rake everything to the middle and then bag. Okay?”

“Got it.”

Stiles retrieved another rake from the garage, the plastic one that was supposed to be new and fancy, but really was a piece of crap next to the ancient metal one that he had handed to Scott, and got back to work. Scott was faster than he was, but a little sloppier and more than once Stiles had to make him do a section again. Scott would give him a look that said “really?” and Stiles would point, a firm indication that yes, really Scott, you have to do it again.

The doubled work went quickly and soon there was a massive pile in the middle of the yard and two boys who stood there smiling at it, exhausted and filthy. Scott’s light blue t-shirt clung to him as did Stiles’ black one and they both stunk and knew it, but at least the part that was rough on their hands was over. “Now all we have to do is bag it and then I can stick my hands in the freezer for like, five hours,” said Stiles.

Scott gave him a mischievous smile. “What?” asked Stiles. Scott raised his eyebrows, daring Stiles to read his mind. “What?” Scott grinned wider, thrust his rake at Stiles and leapt into the pile of leaves, throwing them over his head. “What the fuck, dude?!” exclaimed Stiles. “All that work! What the ever-loving hell, man!?” But he saw Scott smile at him and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Stiles said playfully.

“Oh yeah?” he said, challenging him.

“Yeah,” said Stiles. “Prepare to die, wolfboy.” He threw the rakes aside and leapt into the pile with a cry. He would have landed right on top of Scott had he not moved out of the way, his wolf reflexes making him lightning quick. “Oh come on!” complained Stiles, kneeling up. “No FAIR!” and with his words he flung an armful of fallen leaves at his best friend which Scott caught right in the head.

“Ugh!” said Scott, resisting the urge to shake his head like a wet dog. He threw an impish grin at Stiles and said: “You’re dead now, man!” He threw a massive pile of leaves at Stiles and jumped after them, tackling the boy to the ground. They rolled and rolled back and forth, Scott never really using his true strength and making them more evenly matched until his primal side got the best of him and he pinned Stiles to the leaf pile. Stiles comically blew an errant leaf out of his face as he stared up at Scott, breathless and laughing. Scott had him pinned by his wrists and smiled down on him, equally out of breath, and very aware of both their heartbeats in that moment. Slowly their smiles faded and each boy looked at the other, a thought coalescing in their minds simultaneously.

Then Stiles let his gaze slip. It was only a fraction of a second, but to Scott, the movement took years. Stiles looked at Scott’s mouth. Scott let a smile bloom on his face, small, hopeful. Stiles blinked rapidly and looked again. He looked concerned; his face saying: “are you sure?” without him having to speak the words. Scott returned understanding with a small nod, that small smile lingering on his lips.

Scott saw dawn breaking in Stiles’ eyes as the realization hit home: he could. Soon they were both smiling and Scott leaned in slowly, pausing only centimeters before actual contact as if to ask: “are you really sure?” As if in answer to the question unasked, Stiles closed the gap, closed the circuit.

Electricity was in his lips as Scott tried to process everything: scent, touch, taste. He felt Stiles go slack under him and he leaned in further to continue the kiss, never realizing until that moment that this is what he had always wanted to do with Stiles. It felt right. It felt long overdue.

Scott slipped his hands from Stiles’ wrists and rested them palm to palm in Stiles’. He felt Stiles interlace his fingers with his and open his mouth to deepen the kiss. Mint toothpaste and something indefinable that meant home flooded Scott’s senses as he welcomed Stiles’ tongue against his own.

He broke away from him slowly and shifted his weight just a bit to accommodate his growing interest and realized with a widening of his eyes that Stiles was blushing and clearing his throat. “Whoa,” he said and glanced down between them. His eyes met Scott’s and he looked a bit lost. Scott’s heart melted.

“It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you, Stiles,” he said softly.

Their breath mingled between them and the autumn breeze shifted the branches high above Scott and ruffled his hair, dappling the sunlight on Stiles’ skin and making his eyes a chocolate brown, each boy thinking the other looked absolutely devastating. Stiles licked his lips and said: “Okay.”

Scott smiled. He took his time with their next kiss, teeth, tongue, and mouth each taking turns torturing Stiles, but Stiles gave as good as he got and then some. He bit where Scott only nibbled. He sucked hard enough to bruise. His body rose against Scott’s own, hips grinding up into Scott and making him growl in response.

“Fuck, man,” panted Scott. “What are you trying to do? Get me to wolf out?”

“No way,” Stiles said, astonished, “I’m making you that crazy?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah!”

He looked very pleased with himself. “Cool,” said Stiles. “What’s a matter, Scotty? You afraid to come for me?” He slid his hips up slowly dragging his very prominent erection against Scott’s.

Scott lowered his head to Stiles’ shoulder and let out a low growl that ended in a whine. “Damn,” Stiles whispered. He moved his hands to Scott’s hips and pulled his best friend closer. “Let go a little, man,” he said softly. Reaching between them, Stiles undid the drawstring on Scott’s sweatpants as well as his own. He gave Scott the same look as before: the one that asked “is this okay?” Again, Scott nodded but he felt small and weak.

Each of them mouthed a silent groan as Stiles took them both in hand and stroked slowly. Stiles’ mouth instinctively latched onto Scott’s neck and stayed there like a babe suckling at the teat. Scott leaned his head back and just _felt_.

He heard both their heartbeats practically in unison, throbbing through their bodies and echoing in their cocks. He heard the soft sucking sound of Stiles at his neck, feeling the saliva build and coat his skin. He smelled both their scents mingled with the decaying leaves all around them. He heard a car door slam and his heart skipped a beat, but it was someone down the street.

He must have reacted to that car door because Stiles suddenly stopped. “What? What’s wrong? Too slow for you? Because I can speed up? I can-“ Scott quieted him with a kiss.

“It was nothing,” he said. “Just a car down the street.” He smiled sweetly and added: “This is fucking amazing, Stiles. Why didn’t we do this years ago?”

“Because we were idiots,” said Stiles, picking the rhythm back up with a grunt of pleasure. “You feel so good, Scotty. Shit.” He pulled at them both until they couldn’t stand it any longer. “Scotty, I’m gonna-“

“Yeah, me too,” said Scott. “Come on, man. Come on.” His eyes bore into Stiles’ as they both came hard, the cum spurting between them, the scent clinging to the air, mingling with their panting breaths. Their hips stuttered against one another, once, twice, three times and Stiles brought his hand out and around to cup Scott’s ass. Scott collapsed on top of him, his energy gone.

Scott’s hands were in Stiles’ hair as he caught his breath, nose buried in the other’s cheek. He gave Stiles a quick kiss and said: “Best orgasm ever.”

Stiles smiled and nodded. “Until the next one I give you.”

Scott pulled his head back and smashed some leaves in Stiles’ face playfully. “Prove it,” he said and got up, jogging to the house, holding up his pants in the back as they threatened to sag all the way off as he moved.

It took a second for Stiles’ brain to register what he had just witnessed before he scrambled to his feet, pulling up his own pants and trotted off after Scott, his housework punishments forgotten.


End file.
